L Does Housework
by Yanagi of the Wind
Summary: L is a twenty-four-year-old man. He's a genius. He is not incompetent, and it is unfair for him to make Watari do all of his cooking, cleaning, and sharpshooting for him. At least, that's what Light says. And, despite the lack of trust between the two, L agrees. One-shot.


**Hi, everybody! I was wondering what it would be like if L tried to take care of himself instead of having Watari do it all for him. I ended up coming up with this. I tried to write humorously, but reading over it, I think I'm better with angst and misery and all that sad stuff. Oh well, it's best to practice~**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own any rights whatsoever to "Death Note", or its characters. Please support the original series and give proper credit where credit is due. In fact, I own nothing in this story aside from the storyline and plot. **

**Thank-you.**

**(I re-read this and noticed I put a disclaimer for Hetalia instead of for Death Note. How did I not notice that?!)  
**

**On to the story!**

* * *

L wasn't emotional. That much was quite obvious to everyone around him, and then some; but, despite popular belief, he was also not completely emotionless, either. Being the world's top three detectives (Each a different alias, of course), he forced himself (And was forced by those near him, one way or another) to build a stoic mask, and after time, he'd successfully learned to both control and hide his emotions quite well. His poker face was remarkable. However, while being able to both hide and stow away these emotions, when he was alone and knew nobody was able to discover his true feelings and in turn use them against him, he couldn't help when they bubbled up. He could still remain quite uncaring-looking (You never know when your enemies could have somehow slipped recording devices into your "lair"), but inside, he would brood and think and contemplate on whatever it was he felt, and had to work quite hard not to burst out in laughter, or collapse in tears, or roll around due to whatever other emotion he was feeling.

It was a on one of these nights, as he lay in bed thinking about more things Light Yagami had nagged him about, that he came to a conclusion.

The man who had raised him and taken care of him, waiting on him hand and foot, had worked hard enough. L would learn to do something for himself.

It wasn't as if L was a small child, or even a simple adolescent. L was a fully-grown man in his mid-twenties, and his caretaker Watari was elderly. Neither of them was incompetent; L knew this. Watari was, in all ways, an extraordinary man capable of numerous things, from cooking (For L), to cleaning up (After L), to sharpshooting (Not exactly for L, but, you know, the man would have posed a threat). The older man never let his age get to him, and despite wrinkles and not-just-graying hair, he could do nearly anything a younger man could do, and more. Yet, when Watari came into the office, serving food and swiping away the trash while L and the task force sat still, never really getting much work done on the Kira case, L couldn't help but feel as if he was a small child forcing his grandfather to take care of he and his friends. Of course, he didn't realize this until Light pointed it out one day, but now, as he thought about it, it was incredibly unfair. How old was Watari, anyway? His hair was gray, even when he had met him years ago….

L felt his drowsiness (Caused, of course, by three days of constant work and insomnia) getting worse. He turned over, set his clock to wake him just before sunrise, and went to sleep peacefully, satisfied he would have plenty of time tomorrow.

-O-

L slammed his hand down on the snooze button the second it went off. He'd only just woken up moments before, but was wide awake as soon as the loud and annoying "_BEEEEEEEP_! _BEEEEEEEEP_!" started. He almost grimaced at the device. His logical brain assured him it was harmless to all but his ears, but he was still certain if he took his eyes off of it long enough, the thing would be guaranteed to kill him. There was no way something so obnoxious could be completely benevolent. It was one of the reasons he suspected Light of being Kira, after all.

Why was he up so early, again?

Oh yes.

Today, L was going to do his own housework.

He jumped (See: Sat up, slumped, tangled his foot in sheets, and fell) out of bed and grabbed for a notepad he'd placed on his nightstand. He immediately scanned over the checklist of things he usually had Watari do. With the ghost of a smirk across his pale face, he decided on the second thing on the list (The first being to wake L, which the younger male had already beaten him to). Cook breakfast. It sounded easy enough, and after having seen the caretaker do such nearly every day, it was sure to be a breeze. Besides, L was a genius. He was most definitely smart enough to bake his own cake (Which was a perfectly healthy breakfast, thank-you very much!).

He slouched over to the kitchen, a clean room in the hotel suite that had not yet been ruined by his slobby habits. He stared for a moment, his mind suddenly going blanker than a schoolchild's during a pop quiz. Which one was the oven, again? Was it the little compartment above the stove that had the rotating glass plate, or the larger compartment below the stove with the metal racks? How could he not tell which one it was after seeing them in action so many times? He sighed lightly, frustrated with himself, and thought. Microwaves could cause certain fruits, when cooked uncovered, to explode. Ovens would simply cause the fruits to get oldish, squishy, and melty. It would be quick and easy to decide which was which.

L turned to the mini-fridge, ready to grab out a cherry for testing, and found, to his dismay, there were no cherries. He stood entirely still for half a second, thinking, before deciding to find something else to test. But there was no way he would waste one of his precious strawberries trying to determine which item was the oven. He padded out into the hallway, wondering if maybe he could ask for a cherry at the receptionists' desk, when two small children happily turned the corner of the hallway and began walking toward their room- Which also happened to be in L's direction. One, a little girl with brown, braided pigtails, was holding a handful of dirt, something squirming underneath it. The other, a similar looking girl- Possibly her sister- was making a face, her tongue stuck out.

"_Siiiiis_! You can't bring a bug in here! It's so _icky_!" The second one exclaimed.

"I can do what I want," The first said, defiantly.

The second one, looking slightly green, stuck her hand out and swatted the other girl's hand, causing the child to drop the pile of dirt and whatever was in it. The first girl stared at it a moment. The second girl stared at it a moment.

Then, the second one whispered, "Oooooh. You made a meeeeess. You're gonna get in troooouble."

The first girl's eyes widened. "It was an accident!" She squeaked out.

The second girl paused, staring at her sister's horrified face, before bolting down the hall screaming, "MOM! MOM! SISSY MADE A BIIIG MESS ALL OVER THE FLOOR!"

The first ran after her, screaming and crying, "NO I DIDN'T!"

L couldn't believe his luck. He crouched down beside the pile of dirt and carefully extracted the worm, then turned back to his room. It was just what he needed.

One bad experiment and a gruesome worm-murder later, and L knew which was the microwave, and which was the oven. He also knew his appetite had vanished.

-O-

"Moving on to the next chore," L muttered to himself. "Laundry day is today…."

A knock sounded at the door, and the raven-haired detective remembered he hadn't told Watari that he was doing his own work today (And from now on)- yet. He got up and quickly shuffled to the door, and peeked through the peephole. His calculations were correct- The man standing at the door was none other than Watari, himself.

"Good morning, Watari," he greeted, opening the door fully and motioning the door for his caretaker to come inside.

"Good morning to you, too, Ryuuzaki," Watari nodded respectfully, looking slightly shocked. "You appear to be fully awake. May I ask…. Why?"

L couldn't help but smile, ever so slightly. "Watari, starting today, I will be taking care of myself. You no longer need to cook or clean up after me."

With ever-growing shock on his face, Watari argued. "Ryuuzaki, I believe that is unnecessary! You- Surely you don't mean it."

The younger man shook his head. "I do. I am a twenty-four year old man. I am not incapable of taking care of myself."

"Ryuuzaki, please forgive me, but- I believe you ARE incapable. You're the smartest man in the world, yes, but you lack the abilities and experience to do almost anything on your own!"

"I most certainly am capable of doing everything on my own. Even in the things I am inexperienced in, I am intelligent enough to figure out how to do them."

"But Ryuuzaki-"

"I will no longer be requiring your assistance, I assure you. I can clean my own mess and cook my own food."

"I don't think you can-"

"Would you like me to show you what I can cook?"

Watari blinked. L can cook? Since when? Frustration and doubt building up, he challenged, "Yes, please." L nodded quickly and defiantly, sure of himself and his abilities. He led Watari into the kitchen and pulled out a chair for him at the kitchen table. Watari chose not to ask what was splattered all over the inside of the microwave and sat. Sometimes, one merely had to let another find he is a completely incompetent moron- For his own good, of course.

L, standing slightly straighter, scanned the insides of the cabinets. ….Now, what could he try to cook? Watari didn't exactly have the sweet tooth L had, and cake would probably take to long to bake, anyway. Without any pie tins, pie was completely out of the question….

Ah-ha! He spotted a box of pancake mix behind a few bags of chips and removed them, reaching forward for the box of mix. The oddball yanked the box out in his own "special" way (See: About a quarter spilled out due to the speed he removed it, and due to the fact that he only held it with his thumb and pointer finger), and scanned over the back of the box, reading the directions in a matter of seconds. They sounded so incredibly simple- Combine water and pancake mix in a bowl, cook at medium heat and flip when turns a golden brown. No doubt was in his head; he could easily handle this.

He placed a bowl precariously on the edge of the counter, not worried about it falling off. The glass was plenty hard, and the chances of it shattering were slim. Besides, he'd be holding it while he stirred it. He poured the remaining contents of the box into the bowl, and pulled a wooden mixing spoon from a drawer. As he filled the rest of the bowl with water, he wondered just how long it would take for the frying pan he was using to heat up, and what the chances were that the stove would need to be turned on before he began mixing the ingredients. He quickly reached over and snapped an eye of the stove to "medium".

Slowly, he held onto the mixing spoon and stirred, slightly irritated that his favored grip wouldn't let him stir a bit quicker. After a slightly long while, he finished mixing, and, ignoring a bored-yet-smug Watari, proceeded to pour the bowl of mix directly into the hot frying pan- every last bit of it. Setting his dirty mixing bowl aside, he stood over the pan, patiently expecting for Watari's food to turn to a golden brown as the box said.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited some more, until he noticed Watari biting his lip in an attempt to hold back laughter, and smelled some acrid, smokey scent- Oh god, the pancake was on fire.

L tripped away with a yelp as the small yellow flames began to spread around the skillet, panicking slightly. He had absolutely no idea where the fire extinguisher was, or if there even was one in this cheap hotel room- But L be damned if the world's top three detectives couldn't put out a measly kitchen fire. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the mucky mixing bowl, filled it with water within a matter of seconds, and hurled the dirty liquid over the stove. It made a spectacular splash, and almost no embers were left. He easily doused the last glowing flame with more tap water and sighed, turning back around to a guffawing Watari.

"You see," L began, thinking rapidly, "I can even put out random kitchen fires within seconds." He turned back to the ruined pan. "But…. I do not believe I will be able to use these cooking utensils any longer."

Watari nodded. "Completely random fires. I was not so hungry anyway, sir." The man pushed himself out of the chair and stood. "I suppose I should be going now. I've other business to attend to."

L nodded to him and opened the door, allowing Watari to leave. Cooking was most unpleasant. It now made sense why women were the ones who operated the kitchen.

-O-

L cracked his knuckles and stood before two large, metal machines- One, a washing machine. The other, a dryer. Next to him was a basket full of his clothes he'd dragged down. Doing the laundry wouldn't be too bad. It was something even children were capable of!

He opened the lid of the so-called washing machine and dropped in each clothing item one-by-one. Once the machine was full (And the basket only half-empty), he looked around. There was supposed to be some sort of soap to be put into these things- Aha! On the rack above the machines was a box titled "Laundry Detergent- Ultra Strength".

He smiled gently to himself and reached upwards, pulling the box down. But when he opened the lid, he was somewhat surprised. There was no way that _this_ was soap. It was a powdery, white substance. Soap wasn't supposed to be powdery at all! It was always going to come in bars or bottles. Oh well. He'd just find some _real_ soap.

"Dawn liquid dish soap," L spoke to himself, holding the blue bottle over the sink with one hand. "There is a 78.95 percent chance that this is the proper soap to use when cleaning dishes. It would be sensible to use for washing laundry, as well." He left the kitchen and returned to the laundry machines.

Unsure of the amount of dishwashing liquid he would need for a washing machine full of clothes, he grabbed the plastic scoop that was included in the laundry detergent box, and filled it to the very top with the blue liquid. Then, he turned the scoop over and let the soap spill onto the clothes, shaking the last few drops out, and returned it to its rightful place. He closed the metal lid and reached for the dials, and set it to wash for a setting labeled "Cottons". The amount of time it had written- 60 minutes- was sure to be enough for the clothing to be cleaned.

After the whir of the machine started, he returned to the kitchen and opened a few cabinets, eventually finding exactly what he needed- A box of cookies and a box of teabags. Excellent.

Nibbling on a cookie, the detective grabbed a teapot and put a teabag into it. One bag for one pot- That seemed reasonable. He placed the teapot on top of an eye on the stove and turned a dial on, then waddled back to the laundry room.

From the moment he'd approached the room's door, he knew something was off. The carpeted floor was damp, and it hadn't been before. He opened the door, and to his horror, there was an incredible mass of bubbles pouring out of the washing machine, increasing by the second and already up to his knees.

L squeaked (In a manly way, of course) and dropped his cookie in the blue foam. How the _heck_ did this _happen_?! He waded through the now waist-deep bubbles and lifted the lid to the washing machine. The whirring slowed to a halt almost immediately. He bit his lip in frustration and, leaving the lid up, looked around the small room at the damage he had caused.

Bubbles. Bubbles everywhere.

Suddenly, he smelled a very familiar smell- One that was acrid, choking, and instinct warned to stay away from it. _Don't- _He thought._ Oh, please don't tell me-_

Yes. The kitchen was on fire. And this time, it was a raging fire that had already caught the table, refrigerator, and three cabinets ablaze.

L backed away with a yelp. There was no way a dirty bowl full of water would put this out. In fact, the chances were 98.59 percent that if he did not get out of here _right freakin' now, _he would also be caught ablaze, and the world's top three detectives would be suddenly missing.

L grappled in his pants pocket and whipped out his cell phone, anxiously dialing Watari's phone number and backing out of the room.

-O-

"You burnt half of the hotel down," Watari stated.

"Indeed, I did," L confirmed.

"Our insurance does not cover this."

"I believe you were right, Watari."

"Right about what, sir?"

"Despite being a twenty-four-year-old man, I am incapable of taking care of myself. I will stick with the detective business."

"Please do, sir. Please do."

* * *

**No worms were harmed in the making of this fanfiction. Thank-you.**


End file.
